


[insert]mione: The Ginny Edition.

by waxwing_Saint



Series: [insert]mione - The Warm-Ups [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29407728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waxwing_Saint/pseuds/waxwing_Saint
Summary: Part of my warm-up collection. If there are any relevant tags or warnings they'll be explained in notes at the beginning of each chapter to avoid the wall of tags that tends to happen with drabble collections.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley
Series: [insert]mione - The Warm-Ups [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160336
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PwP? No magic? Reconnecting with a childhood friend while on summer break from university? Car sex? Why not?
> 
> Rated **E** for **E** xcuse Me, Ladies, That’s Not What The Back Seat Of A Car Is For.

Out the window Hermione could see the cotton tuft of a poplar tree spiraling by on the breeze. She reached behind her head, fingers searching clumsily for the handle to roll down the window. Ginny’s mouth found her neck, a skittering of breath against her throat, and Hermione’s quest was forgotten as she broke into laughter. She curled in on herself, balling up under Ginny’s weight but insistent hands were prying her apart.

They’d jammed themselves into the back seat of Ginny’s car and a combination of their gasping pants and the sun baking the glass left them trying to breathe liquid air. Hermione arched, her bare skin caught stick and dragged against the burgundy leather. Ginny shuffled back, finding space, as cramped as they were. She swirled her fingers again through Hermione‘s wetness.

“Gin,” Hermione twisted away from the feathering tickle, the freshly cut edges of Ginny’s hair dancing across her navel.

With a firm press Ginny held her hips down, lowering her head to place a reverent, open-mouthed kiss against the heaving plane of Hermione’s stomach. Ginny’s exhales were fire against her skin in the oppressive heat of the car. She rolled her body up, wrapped her arms around the back of Ginny’s head, rocking hips in time with her steady thrusts.

Ginny adjusted the mess of her long legs and the shift gave her better leverage--Hermione slammed her head back against the car door, body bowed. “That’s it,” Ginny hushed, working her fingers harder, adding a third. Hermione could feel Ginny’s thumb trying to catch her clit but the angle was tight and she was too wet, every time she found purchase the sensation slipped away with her next push inside.

“I’m close,” Hermione gasped and squeezed the nape of Ginny’s neck, hot with sweat and tangled hair. Her other hand, desperate for something to hold onto, pushed against the burning glare of the window to force herself harder onto Ginny’s fingers.

Ginny surged up to meet her mouth, faltering in her movements just long enough to frustrate Hermione, to feel her orgasm slip away. “Ginny, fuck.” When she tried to pull back Hermione’s grip on her neck held her fast. Hermione kissed her hungrily, trying to push herself higher by desperately grinding her body up into the other woman. She knew her face was twisted in some ugly agony.

But still, Ginny whispered into her mouth, “You look so beautiful like this.”

Hermione hiccupped out a laugh at the stark contrast-- the softness of her words and the power of her shoulder behind each thrust. Hermione wrapped arms around her, splaying her hands against the damp fabric stretched between Ginny’s shifting shoulder blades. When she opened her eyes the other woman was taking her in, blue eyes glued to her parted lips, studying the shuddered exhales.

“You’re so good,” Hermione struggled around the words, “you feel so good.”

Ginny nodded and buried her face in Hermione’s shoulder. She kept her thrusts steady, getting low and following through with weight behind her arm. She’d been so close before that she sighed with relief when the feeling built again. Hermione felt the coil in her stomach seize up. Her fingers clawed at Ginny’s shoulders before settling on her face, holding her cheeks and pulling her into a desperate kiss that stifled the moans pulsing with each clench of her muscles.

Hermione tried to curl in on herself but Ginny had collapsed over her. She hugged Ginny’s neck and clung to her, her body jerking with the aftershocks. Ragged breaths trembled out of her until she was laughing, her eyes looking back up to the window to see another cotton tuft float by. Suddenly remembering the breeze, Hermione’s fingers scrabbled blindly against the door until they found the handle and yanked on it. Her weight against the door was enough to push it open and her head dropped out into the fresh air. She gulped it in.

The breeze grazed over her, pulled the damp heat from her skin. She could feel Ginny’s smile against her sternum. The boneless pull of Ginny’s arm left her empty and the trail of slick fingers against her thigh lingered cool as it caught the breeze. She laughed harder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated **G** for **G** oddamnit, My Ex Just Told Me You Guys Don’t Have Fireflies Over There So I Had To Change Them To Will-o’-Wisps At The Last Minute.

Sparks of light flared at the edge of the forest, too far away to make out more than the occasional burst of sickly yellow green. Years later it still sent a shiver down her spine. Hermione looked over at Ginny, stretched out on her back in the grass. Wild and untamed and gone to seed--Ginny and the grass were one and the same. The longest whips of it bent over and danced over her eyelids.

“What’s the matter?” Ginny’s voice was stronger and louder, more blunt than Hermione thought the night should allow.

“What?”

Ginny clasped her hands behind her head and opened her eyes, looking up at Hermione expectantly, “It’s beautiful out, but I can feel you over there trembling like it’s the dead of winter.”

Hermione shook her head and looked back out over the hills to the treeline, “Are those will-o’-wisps?”

“Mhm,” Ginny mumbled, closing her eyes again.

“They look like…”

“--like curses, I know.”

Hermione glanced down at her again, but she hadn’t moved, not so much as a muscle out of place, long and languid and liquid, lazily pooled in the indent of her own body.

Ginny peeked an eye open again, “Just lay back and enjoy the night.”

Hermione sighed, flopped back into the grass, and tried to make her body melt like Ginny’s.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst? Angst is a strong word, just...bickering. Anger in the Harpies locker room.
> 
> Rated **T** for **T** otally Naked in Front of Your Ex.

Ginny swore she heard the squeal of metal, the familiar ungreased hinges of the locker room door. She pulled her head from the spray and waited. Her eyes tracked upward, she held her breath.

Nothing. Only the steady hiss of water from the showerhead.

She palmed the water from her eyes and reached for her wand, scooped a towel off the bench and held it over her chest. Maybe her mother was right, maybe the war had snapped something inside of her. Maybe she couldn’t let silence be silence.

Or maybe she was right and there _was_ a foe around every corner.

“There you are,” Hermione turned away from the whiteboard with its whizzing x’s and o’s, ecstatic movement replaying the last moments of the game. “I thought I might find you here.” She glanced down at the fisted wand by Ginny’s thigh, her white-knuckle grip. She held up a pad of paper, “I just came for a quote.”

Ginny sighed and turned, moving back into the bathroom with its row of shower stalls. “I see they still have you stuck on the sports desk.”

There was silence for a moment before she followed. Ginny glanced behind her to find Hermione leaning a shoulder into the doorframe and pinning her with a wry smile. “I’ll work my way back up. Writing that exposé was worth the punishment--I can handle the sports desk for a while.”

Ginny snorted. She leaned forward into the stall and turned the knobs of the shower sharply. The water shut off with a clang. She stood behind the half wall, staring at Hermione for a moment. When it was clear that privacy was a luxury she wouldn’t be afforded she turned, dried the soaking towel with a tap of her wand, and wrapped it around herself. “You know,” Ginny’s voice echoed through the green and gold tiled room, “I hear there are positions open at the Quibbler, I’m sure Xenophilius would take you on.”

She could hear the brushing displacement of air as Hermione moved deeper into the bathroom. Ginny looked over the shower stalls to the row of mirrors over the sinks. The foggy blurred image of Hermione grew closer until she was clear, sharp in Ginny’s peripheral vision. “Are you honestly still mad at me?”

Ginny scoffed and turned her head away, “For what? For leaving me for my own brother, or for leaving him for nothing at all?”

“It wasn’t for nothing at all,” Hermione spoke quietly.

Ginny turned on her and shoved past her out of the stall, marching back out into the locker room, “Do you mind, Hermione? I’m busy.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst. Pining. Remorse. Loss. Love. Longing. But also Linny, pure happy beautiful Linny. I’m not going to tag it, but if you are a secret Linny shipper who is already here...surprise?? Maybe I should do some _linmione_ warm-ups. After all, the real ethos of [insert]mione is that everything is better if you just sprinkle some ‘Mione in there.
> 
> Content Warning: bad writing, _don’t worry, I know, I see it_ but the point of warm-ups is that they’re sloppy and ugly and you bang them out and move on. I’m learning to accept failure.
> 
> Rated **G** for **G** uilt.

There was a damp breeze weighing down Ginny’s cloak, but it was too beautiful to sit cooped up in the castle. The first hints of a blue sky after the endless months of dreary grey had been enough to pull half the students outside and she and Luna were among the two dozen others who’d taken up residence on the front steps to enjoy the weather.

And Luna was blue like the sky, blue tie, blue sweater, blue eyes. The candy she was rolling around had her mouth tinged too--pretty blue and sweeter, even, than the sky or the lack of biting cold or the rare free afternoon in their seventh year. Shades of Luna. The breeze blew her hair and it caught up in the corner of her lips. She spoke around it, reaching up to hook it away with her pinky, another sticky blue treat staining her fingertips.

Ginny couldn’t stop staring. She smiled, leaned back against the low wall bordering the steps, and pulled Luna to stand between her ankles. Luna was still talking, eyes up, finding something of interest dotted against the sparse clouds.

She couldn’t help it, Ginny stretched her neck forward and kissed the edge of Luna’s blue lips. She might have thought Luna hadn’t even noticed, the way her words kept spilling out, the way her eyes kept skirting across the sky, but a hand came up and rested over Ginny’s heart. Ginny wondered if Luna could feel the swell of affection happening under her palm. She tightened her hold on Luna’s hips.

Another swirl of wind sent Luna’s flyaway hair in a dance around them. Over her shoulder, through the sugar-spun strands, Ginny saw Hermione.

Hermione--too old, too famous, too busy catching up to ever look away from her books...but she was looking now. She was sitting on the steps with her cloak under her to chase away the moisture of the stone. Sitting there with her elbows on her knees and her fingers knotted in front of her and a shadow of incomprehensible pain in her eyes. Every piece of Ginny crumbled, rotten architecture folding in on itself between her lungs, filling her mouth with dust.

There was the barest quirk to her lips. Hermione ducked her head, but Ginny had already seen the tremble in her chin sent to shatter that tiny, brittle, shield of a smile. Ginny straightened, slid her back higher up the wall, Luna’s hand was suddenly pushing all the air out of her.

Hermione inspected her fingers for a moment. Ginny shifted. She couldn’t move, something was holding her in place--Luna’s hand or the wall at her back or the rock rolled from mistakes and poor choices that had taken up residence high in her throat. She couldn’t even manage a swallow around the thing. She tried to wet her lips but found her tongue like sandpaper. 

Time passed until Hermione gave up picking at hangnails and stood, turning to scoop up her cloak. She looked up at Ginny and offered a wet, embarrassed smile, winding up the billowing fabric around an arm and hugging it tightly to her as she walked up the steps and disappeared into the castle.

Ginny slid her eyes closed and sighed.

The weight on her chest grew heavier and Luna’s warm kiss found her. Ginny opened her eyes when Luna pulled away. Blue sweater, blue eyes, blue tongue, blue smile. Blue sky. Shades of Luna. Ginny eased and reached up to trail a thumb over sugar blue lips.

“I love you, Luna.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend has made a running joke out of the fact that Ginny ships are my Basic outlet. It’s funny because it’s true. Basic Basic Basic. I don’t even care. Ginny is sunshine and teenage love and oversaturated colors and chapstick and the way that grass feels muggy and hot when you dig your fingers into it in the summer and if that makes me basic then I don’t wanna be anything else.


End file.
